Monday, November 5, 2012

Respect

Tonight my heart is breaking.

Two of my children have broken hearts and there is nothing I can do other than be with them when they need my shoulder to cry on and step back when they need a few more minutes alone.  (this is an alone moment)

I've been thinking about venting via blog about the overall lack of respect in our society for a while and this is perhaps a perfect time to do more than think about it.

Have we, as a society, completely forgotten what respect is?  I have to wonder. I think we've become so self absorbed and feel entitled that we've forgotten what it means to be respectful.  I love dictionaries, and I can't help but reach for mine right now.  (Yes, I'm that dork who still keeps a bound dictionary on my desk!)  The esteemed Mr. Webster tells us that respect is a deferential regard or a willingness to show consideration or appreciation.

Courteous.

Considerate.

Appreciative.

How often do we see examples of these three?

Are we courteous to others or is it "all about me?"  Are we considerate or is it "all about me?"  Are we appreciative or is it "all about me?"  If the answer is "it's all about me", I can't imagine that one can be very courteous or considerate.  If "it's all about me", there's no room for appreciation because it's all about feeling entitled.

I can't help but think about my kids.  A friend of theirs took his life as a result of being bullied--which to me is the epitome of disrespect.  Bullies do not show regard, consideration, or appreciation; they are self absorbed and embody a sense of entitlement.  This young man had his whole life ahead of him yet felt he had no other option but to end his life.

This breaks my heart.

And it makes me angry!

I think it is our job as adults to teach our young ones how to be respectful.  There's an old saying that is not only true, it is appropriate here: actions speak louder than words.  The next generations learn by our example.  What are we showing them?  Are we showing them how to be courteous, considerate, and appreciative or are we modeling selfishness and entitlement?

My original thought about this blog involved a giant verbal vomit about all the disrespectful things I see in life, on television, in politics, and just disrespect in general.  However, tonight I am challenged to simply model appropriate behavior.  I want to be more courteous, more considerate and more appreciative in every aspect of my life so that when my kids and their friends look at me they see how to be respectful.


Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Life is like...

...a box of chocolates!  Thanks, Forrest, for so eloquently describing my life!  Right now, I truly never know what I'm going to get!

It's been a while since I've had the opportunity to sit down and write an entry.  It seems like if it's not one thing, it's another!  

Work:

I accepted the 8-5 job at a "local" college that has its headquarters here at Yokota.  As you know from my FB posts, I was exceptionally excited about the opportunity!  It was going to look great on my CV, AND allow me to travel all around the Pacific Far East on another's dime while collecting per diem.  What could be better than that? 

My sanity!  My sanity very quickly became the answer to that seemingly innocent question.  For the first week my days looked a little like this:  

4:00am:         roll out of bed, reach desperately for that first cup of coffee and grade/write posts
6:30am:           get kids up and get myself dressed for the day
6:45-7:00am:   unlock the doors at work and get started with emails or chat with the Assoc. Dean regarding current issues
5:00pm:           unlock the outer doors so Kaleigh can wait with me for NZ's practice to end
5:30-5:45pm:   drive home

The evening consisted of making dinner, cleaning up from dinner, helping out with homework when required, and trying to be back at my computer no later than 7:30 or 8:00pm so that I could work until midnight, occasionally a tad later.

At the end of the week, I put a couple comments together at work and realized that though I was a salaried employee who consistently arrived before the scheduled work day started, stayed beyond the scheduled end of the work day, AND rarely took the full hour I was allotted at work, my pay check was going to be reduced.  As a condition of employment we agreed that I would come into work at noon on Tuesdays so that I could fulfill a previous commitment.  It was never specified that those hours would be deducted from my paycheck.  Tassjie had an emergency at school one afternoon and I was away from building for 19 minutes to help her with what she needed.  I was told to fill out a leave without pay slip for that as well.  Hmmmmm.  According to the Fair Labor Standards Act, a salaried employee is guaranteed a minimum amount of money per week regardless of the quality or quantity of work produced in that week provided the employee works at least once that week.  I bring this up and was told that it was a "leadership style".  No, it's ILLEGAL!  Here was the first of many problems: I won't work as an hourly employee from 8-5 and be docked for every minute I'm not at my desk but be expected to show up early, stay late, and come in on weekends like a salaried employee.  I very quickly changed my schedule and didn't stay one minute past my allotted hours.  My schedule quickly adjusted to look like this:

4:00am:         roll out of bed, reach desperately for that first cup of coffee and grade/write posts
6:30am:         get kids up and get myself dressed for the day
8:00am:         log in at work
11:15am:       (yep that specific--the leadership style included dictating a set lunch schedule that was NOT, I repeat NOT to be altered 
                      without direct approval--in advance! from her, the DEAN) eat lunch in breakroom while grading/posting with the laptop.  If 
                      I forgot a lunch, this happened at home around 11:20ish)
12:15pm:        log back in at work
5:00pm:         pick up Kaleigh and sit in the car grading/posting until NZ was finished with practice
5:30-5:45pm:   drive home

My evening routine didn't change.  Suffice it to say, I was extremely busy! 

It didn't take long for me to realize that I was working in a hostile, disrespectful, and unethical environment.  My own integrity was in question and I'm definitely NOT okay with that.  I could tell you things that would make your mouth fall open!  At this point, it would likely just be gossip (and I'm not into creating even more drama!).  Let's just say that the leadership style I mentioned above included yelling and cursing at employees, unless this person was busy looking straight through you.  Neither option set well with me.  It became apparent that my coworkers were scared for their jobs and too afraid to say anything.  If you know me even a little, you know that I don't have a problem calling the baby ugly.  I tried to go through the proper chain of command, however this didn't work either.  It also became crystal clear that I was hired to bring with me the credibility that comes with the three little letters after my name!  

"Here, can you sign this?" 
 "What is it?"
"It doesn't matter just go ahead and sign it."

Nope!  Afraid not.  I'm not afraid for my job, in fact, I don't "need" the silly job! And I'm certainly not about to lay down and be a doormat for anyone. At the three week mark I resigned.   I washed my hands of the drama and got back to the business of living.

Two weeks pass and in a stunning turn of events, the Dean is told to retire and the Deputy Chancellor calls to tell me he didn't process my resignation and I'm still an employee!  They want me back.  

Flattering.

But...

...

I've since signed another contract and IF the new acting Dean will honor the original conditions of employment AND extend the date from Dec. to March, it looks like I'll be headed back to work. 

It simply cannot be any worse than it was before! The main source of my drama no longer exists and, to quote my grandma here: time will tell!

Pets:

It was too hot for Jack and D'Argo to come with us to Japan.  We really hoped to have them here by September.  Here is it the end of October!  I am SUPER excited to say they are coming home tomorrow!!!!!  But it's been an incredible ordeal to get them here.  I would seriously like to have a straight answer!  Not only do websites contradict each other, one person would tell us one thing, another person would tell us something different...there were moments when it looked like D wouldn't get to come.  Then he'd be okay but Jack couldn't come.  When we finally got the okay for both pets we find out that Delta Cargo won't accept a credit card over the phone--ARE YOU KIDDING ME??  Cash or money order only at the counter??  No one could have mentioned this a month ago giving me time to mail a check without additional postage and additional issues? Drama!  

Here's the problem: I LOVE drama--in terms of the stage!  Broadway, community theatre, even movie theatres from time to time!  I love the arts!  

I   H A T E   drama in any other area!  

I think instead of chocolates, I've been reaching for a piece of drama.

Work--drama!
Crazy bosses--drama!
Animals--drama!
JCI for the Cube--drama!  (But I got an Alfa Romeo out of that one so I'm not sure we can count that one quite the same!)
Tried to open a local bank account--drama! 
Registration for the truck that's stored stateside--drama!
Just send me the box of checks I ordered and you deducted from my account three months ago, please--drama!
Lawn mower--drama!
Jr. High and High School--drama!
Back to the AAFES Garage for JCI for the minivan--drama!

Drama!  Drama! Drama!

Seems to me like we could eliminate quite a bit of that drama if people would just treat each other with respect.  It's actually quite a simple little concept that has...dare I say it...dramatic results!  =)

I think I've rambled enough for now--plus it's time to go grab my taxi cab driver's hat and get the kids from practice.  Here's to hoping that my box of chocolates is almost empty and I can reach for the Halloween candy instead--at least I'd know what I'm getting that way!  :)

Friday, August 31, 2012

Milestones

In the past six months, I've taught a total of four child development and two lifespan development classes.  We talk quite a bit about milestones.  It's probably a good thing my poor kiddos don't know how many times they come to class with me!  But because they do, I've thought quite a bit about the last 16 years I've been a parent.

For the most part, my kids have made it through their milestones better than their mama did!  They ran to each new development with excitement and smiles while I was dragging my heels with sniffles and tears.   That wasn't quite the case last night!  My oldest two shared another milestone together: their first high school game as a participant.

Okay, so it's not a typical, textbook milestone, but what an exciting event to share!

August 31, 2012--Yokota High School, Japan.  I watched my son make some fantastic tackles, score another TD, and call plays as quarterback!  I watched my daughter cheer on the sidelines and perform at halftime as a Varsity cheerleader for the very first time!

This was a milestone for me too!  I still had my camera and still took hundreds(!) of pictures but instead of sniffles and tears, it was my turn for smiles and cheers! Great job, Kaleigh and NZ!!  I am proud of you both!


**pictures to come at a later date**

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Dear Diary er I mean Dear Blog


The motivation behind the creation of this blog almost doesn’t seem appropriate any longer.  I’ve been stupid-free for months!  :)   Not that I’m complaining—I’m okay with not being subjected to all the stupid things that plagued me almost daily there for a good long while.  However, that left me wondering what exactly one does with a blog when there’s nothing funny, as the saying goes, to “write home about.”

I’ve been thinking about blogs lately, and what to do with mine, when it dawned on me that for all intents and purposes, a blog is really nothing more than a public diary.  Instead of starting off intimate descriptions of the things that happened that day with “Dear Diary” and expecting it to stay private, the stories that make up one’s life are displayed for all the world to see and—haha—read like a book!

As stupid things will no doubt find me once again, I will continue to share the fully stories but in the mean time, indulge me as I use this blog to keep a sort of diary of the every-day, often unspectacular events that keep us busy here in Japan.  So, on that note: 

Dear Blog,

I’ll start with the Friendship Festival.  I’d heard all about it from lots of different folks, yet I wasn’t quite sure what to expect.  It looked an awful lot like a two-day Air Show to me!  It's a big fund raiser for the various squadrons because the flight line is open to the public.  And boy did they all come out to play!   It rained most of Saturday, but that didn't stop folks from standing in line for hours to see the planes or grab a bite to eat.  AMXS sold hamburgers and hotdogs, chips and drinks--pretty cool set-up, huh?  



I think lots of folks must've agreed with me because we ran out(!) of meat by lunchtime on Sunday!  I guess a few of the guys ran to the commissary and bought them out of burgers and dogs and kept selling 'till 3-ish, then we were down to just chips and drinks. 


So here's the thing about the Friendship Festival...Saturday Nick and I had various receptions to go to so we didn't really walk around the flight line and see the sights.  On Sunday, it was me and thousands of my closest friends hanging out all day.  The kids complained it was too hot to do anything outside and Nick had to work.  -__-    

No worries though, I wasn't about to let the bad attitudes of my kids and the misfortune of my husband ruin my day!  Here's just a glimpse of the festivities.  

 

I watched a ton of folks do a little skydiving, opted not to stand in some of the longer lines, and listed to some legitimately good music!  I put the flags here because the picture of the stage was taken during an amazing rendition of our National Anthem by a man with an electric guitar.  I get chills even thinking about it!

I keep forgetting to ask Nick what the final dollar amount was that we made from the burger burn.  I have a side bet going so I'd better remember to ask!

The next festival I attended was the Fire Festival.  But I'm already ahead of myself.  I moved around a lot as a child and when I was little I remember my mom would ask me if I found a friend at each new school when I'd come home that first day.  I have to chuckle because I'm about to write something similar.  

So, I found a friend.  *smile*  Her name is Monica and her hubby is a CC in the MXG as well.  I feel bad that I benefited from misfortune, but there's really no other way to describe what happened.  In true MX fashion, plans changed and our friend Tom had to work.  They already bought tickets to take the bus to the Fire Festival and what to do with an extra one?  Did I mention I found a friend?  (hee hee)  Monica invited me to go with her to Yoshido for the Fire Festival.  I have to be honest, I had a moment's pause because it was the last day of summer vacation for the kids, I hadn't seen a lot of Nick in the past couple of days (that whole work thing again)...the moment passed.  Thanks for the invite and off we go to the bus stop! 

The way I understood the story might not be 100% accurate, so don't go and Google it to find any errors!  I'm sure there probably there but hey!  The story was kind of interesting so I didn't look it up for myself. 

This particular festival is hundreds of years old.  Mt. Fuji is an active volcano (and don't think I didn't have a moment's pause over that very fact off and on that day!), and the festival is way to appease the fire gods and provide protection for the upcoming year.  They line the streets with fire and burn torches down to nothing.  Then they take the ash and spread in on the doorstep of homes and businesses so that if the volcano erupts it won't harm their buildings. So, true, not true?  You decide!  It was a beautiful town and I can tell you that when the entire street was literally on fire, it was H O T!  

So our bus guide gave us a few stats on Mt. Fuji.  I guess it hasn't erupted since the 1700s.  I don't know if that reassured me or made me wonder if it's 'due'.  As I snapped over 600(!) pictures that day I couldn't help but offer my own little word of prayer for the volcano to stay dormant.  I didn't want to be some future archeologist's Pompei-like discovery: "Look how she cradles the oddly shaped black box to her eye..."

At any rate, here are just a few of those 600 photos: 




                                                                       



I'd be remiss if I didn't tell at least one funny story. 

So my friend Monica has big boobs...

...I do not have big boobs.

This sweet looking old man came up and started chatting with us.  Interesting thing to chat with a person who doesn't speak your language.  Lots of hand gestures are involved.  

After a few minutes he outlines my friend's bust with his hands and with a big goofy grin on his face says "COCO ICHIBAN".  He turns to me, outlines my apparent lack of bust and says "NO ichiban."  

At this point we're both laughing and looking at each other like, what in the world does Ichiban really mean?  That was the name of Nick and I's favorite sushi restaurant in Rapid City, so what, we're dining twice a week at a place entitled breasts?

He apparently thought it was funny because he went on and on about COCO and NO.  

For you with acquiring minds, ichiban apparently means "the best".  Coco means "this right here".  Monica and I are apparently poster girls for the best and not the best!  

He saw my camera and wanted to take a picture with each of us.  Sounds innocent enough.  I take the picture of him and Monica and at the last second he kisses her cheek (can't find that snapshot!).  My turn.  He stands by me to take his picture and I kind of expected him to kiss my cheek--oh how I wish that's what he did! 

Here is Mr. Ichiban, right after he licked my face!!
Sayonara!! 
                            



Saturday, August 18, 2012

Hour

Just one more hour...that's been the story of my life this past week.

I had this mistaken impression when I was younger that when we all grew up, we'd all act like adults!  I'm not sure if I'm naive or if I simply have a short memory span but I am consistently surprised by the fact that grown adults act like petty, spoiled, small-minded, junior high students.

I was surprised this week.

One of my colleagues consistently throws me under the proverbial bus.  Most of the time the efforts of this person are not worthy of my time or energy to address.  Unfortunately this behavior appears to be escalating.

Early last month I was marked down in a performance review because I did not have X in my syllabi.  X comes directly from my colleague who neglected to (a) tell me I needed to include this in my syllabi (which is a part of that position's job description!) and (b) send me X to put in the syllabi!  I politely listened to the feedback from our boss but if I'm truthful I was seething on the inside.  I questioned where I should have found this information and through the course of our discussion he corrected my feedback when he realized I never had access to this information.

It's entirely possible that my beloved husband needed to shower after I verbally vomited all over him when that particular phone conversation was over.

I waited a few days and then emailed this colleague--I've still never received a response.

A new semester starts on Monday.  I found out from a forwarded email that we have a new textbook for a certain class I teach.  (My colleague is in charge of choosing the text and creating course objectives for all of the psychology classes available.)

um, W H A T?!?

I had this particular class finished before we left South Dakota.  I had to wait for the class to 'make' and be added to my portal before I could upload the content.  So here we are with less than a week to the start of the fall semester and I find out through the grapevine that the book has changed?

I cannot reach for the phone because of the time difference, but I promptly set my alarm and marched myself to bed.  The alarm went off in the dead middle of the night and in less time than it took for my Keurig to brew me a cup of coffee I was on the phone.  Of course, our boss wasn't in his office; however his secretary found me a book at the library and personally took it to the post office to try to get it here to Japan as quickly as possible.

A few more cups of coffee and a couple of phone calls later my colleague's response was "Ooops, I thought you knew I chose a new textbook.  Guess you won't be ready for Monday."

-__-

Thankfully I have contacts with several publishing companies from my years of working as an independent contractor.  A couple more phone calls and emails later I have an electronic copy of the text in question, the instructor's manual, and the test bank.  It took me two solid days but I have the entire semester's worth of assignments and assessments completed.

It's small of me, I know, but I truly want to holler out "IN YOUR FACE, ___" while doing a happy booty dance.

And on that note I'll end this entry because I truly think I'm down to needing just one more hour before I'm completely ready for my next set of students!

Sunday, August 5, 2012

So, it's been a while since I've written and thinking about all that's happened and what I could write is daunting, so I'll just go ahead and start and see where we end up.

Lots of changes over the last month!  We finally got all of our household goods packed and crated and headed for Japan.  That was seriously stressful!  We chose to clean the house ourselves because the going rate was too much for what the pre-inspection indicated needed to be done.  And of course, if you know us, nothing is ever that simple!

We actually already had a TLF room.  That's how this story starts. It was our last Thursday night and we'd promised the kids a final Summer Nights with their friends (and--twist our arms--that meant we HAD to wait for them at the Tinderbox and HAD to choke down one last beer--the things we suffer through for our kids!  OY! Parenthood is such a trial!).  As it turned out, NZ wanted his two best friends to spend the night.  The only thing stopping us was the TLF room--it was already crowded with the 5 of us, adding two more teenage boys to the mix didn't sound pleasant.  But, we had the house complete with all our stuff so why not!  We decided that I'd stay with the boys at home and Nick would stay with the girls at TLF.  So, home we went.  Nick dropped me and all the boys off.  I dorked around with them for a bit then took myself and my Kindle to my room for some peace and quiet--that actually didn't happen but I did read until I fell asleep!

So, the next day comes and I'm out with the packers in the garage.  It smelled overwhelmingly like sunscreen.  Odd. Found out why after everything was moved out.  The boys decided to graffiti the garage floor with sunscreen.  We had a giant Miami Heat imprint on the garage floor.  In hindsight I guess we should have taken a picture so I could add a visual aid here.  Apparently the boys tried to wash it off with soap and water--no luck.  So, instead of helping me clean as planned, this meant Nick was off to Lowes for concrete cleaner.  To keep a very long and very frustrating story short I'll just say that two days, multiple trips to Lowes, and $80 in product later we had a bright orange Miami Heat logo proudly displayed on the floor.  Are you kidding me?  We went from darker colored concrete (original after the sunscreen) to dark grey/almost black lettering, to red lettering, back to grey lettering and ended up with the blaze orange.  How on earth are we going to pass inspection?

This takes us to Sunday--we had the inspection Monday morning.  I was finalizing cleaning stuff in the house and boxed up all the last of the cleaning supplies.  We had about half a gallon of bleach left.  Nick looks at me and says, "Should I just dump the rest of the bleach on the Heat?"  Sure why not.  It simply cannot get any worse.  And wonder of all wonders the bleach takes it all out.  All of it, no trace left.  I believe this is where my kids would put SMH...

We left bright and early Tuesday morning for Dallas.  We managed to survive the 13 hour flight from DFW to Narita with all 5 Pedersens and all 10 bags present and accounted for!


The hardest part of the trip was the 2 hour bus ride to Yokota.  Nick was busy talking shop with his Ops O and Shirt so it was up to me to (a) not nod off and (b) not let the kids nod off.  That first night sleep was just about the best I've had since we got here!   First things first! Nick and I were off to take the driving class/test for our licenses here.  (Ask me who got the perfect test score) And after a month in, I can tell you that driving on the wrong side of the road isn't nearly as scary as I thought it would be!

Nick's Assumption of Command happened bright and early Friday morning. 

                                                                        And can I just say that I loved the 9am piece of chocolate cake!!!  I could get used to that! 

We got our house (YAY!) and bought a minivan (GULP) and somehow got our bodies used to living in this time zone just in time for another 8 hour plane ride back across the international date line!  

But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Nick and I had (here's that word again...what a hard life we lead!) to go to Hawaii for a commander's course.  Dilemma: we have three kids and no friends to leave them with yet.  (...and do we really want to do that to our friends??  hmmmmm)  We either take them with us or I stay here.  I'm NOT okay with the second option so the plan was to take them with us.  SATO told Nick back in Rapid that they'd go ahead and get the kids tickets to match ours and we could just pay for them when we got here.  All well and good except that our tickets cost one amount and the kids tickets would come to a grand total of just under ten thousand dollars.  Are you kidding me?? See, nothing's ever easy.

Now we're back to option 2--which did I mention I wasn't too happy with?  I sat down to do a little digging and found cheap flights for the kids with one tiny little snag--they'd be on a foreign carrier with a layover in Korea...alone.

The dinner table conversation went a little something like this: 

So how bad do you want to go to Hawaii?

Really bad!

Are you willing to go alone on Korean Air and find your way through customs without us?

...

...

YES!!!!!!!!

Now this is a significant emotional event for Nick and I.  Sometimes our kids do not get along with each other--at all.  Nasty fights are not unheard of.  Are we seriously considering trusting them to go alone and not cause an international incident?  Big sigh. 

We parted in Tokyo...

                                   ...lived large in first class......

                                                                                        .....and met back up in Hawaii!

Hawaii itself wasn't a bad gig...especially since I got to hang out with my very dear friend Toni all week!!!  However, a vacation it was NOT.  See, my bosses don't believe in time off. Are you kidding me?  There are 24 whole hours in each and every day.  Because I have the privilege of working from home with no set schedule they fully expect me to find some time during those 24 hours to sit at a computer and get my work done.  My time in Hawaii, while filled with completely fun and memorable moments, was flat out exhausting! 

In order to remain gainfully employed I got up early to work before it was time to dress and be at the conference center at 7am for breakfast...sat through classes until 4:30-5 (which is a whole other blog entry!), ran back to the room to change clothes, grab the kids, and go do all the vacationy things, come back to the room to shower and sit at my computer long into the early morning hours.  I can't help but feel a song coming on...

...second verse, same as the first!

Each day was a repeat of the day before!  Work, class, play, work, nap...work, class, play, work, nap...

Don't feel too badly for me, after all the view from my virtual office was spectacular!   
Who can be too sad knowing this is right outside??

That brings us back to the future.  (okay, that's just NOT going to get old for a while!)  We made it back to Japan with no international incidents AND our first shipment of household goods was waiting for us!  If we're still a bit jet lagged it's only natural--we've put our bodies through the ringer these past few weeks.  I'm looking forward to finding our new normal in the heat and humidity that is now home. 

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Happy Fourth of July!


I was sitting by the last fire pit we'll have at Ellsworth Air Force Base just now thinking about our three years here.  Every now and then I truly love being a psychologist!  I see psychological concepts every day of my life--today is no exception!  I find myself experiencing a classic case of cognitive dissonance: I am sad to see this chapter of our lives end yet my actions suggest that I am excited to board the plane bound for Japan on Tuesday morning!  My thoughts and my actions do not match and in true Festinger fashion, one of the two must change!  Moving is a fact of military life so I'm pretty sure my thoughts will ultimately match my behaviors.  *smile*  

It is the fourth of July and I can see fireworks lighting up the night's sky.  I was reminded of a speech I gave in 2011 at the kickoff of the Military Spouse Appreciation Day festivities here on base and thought it would be a fitting addition to this blog.  After I gave the speech, I was asked to modify it for publication. So here it is, my tribute to my fellow military spouses and the flag I am so proud to help hold high.

We just finished celebrating military spouse appreciation day and spouses were the focus of activities all over the base.  While it was an amazing day (who doesn’t like to be appreciated now and then!), I likely speak for us all when I say I am a military spouse not for what I can be recognized or appreciated for, but for love.  Our active duty spouses volunteer to put their uniform on every morning and in a very real way we volunteer to accept all that goes along with that.  I want to tell you a quick story that also centers on appreciation, and it’s one I think has a direct bearing on our lives as military spouses.   

At the turn of the 19th Century, America was deep into what we now think of as the War of 1812.  The British burned our capitol, captured a few notable prisoners, and had their sights set on seizing control of the Port of Baltimore.  A young lawyer named Frances Scott Key was sent to Baltimore to negotiate for the release of the prisoners and although he was successful, found himself sequestered onboard one of the British ships.  You see he overheard plans the British were making to attack Fort McHenry later that night. 

In Baltimore, the defenders of Ft McHenry had been expecting an attack for some time.  Major Armistead, the commander of Ft. McHenry, commissioned Mary Pickersgill to sew a flag large enough to be seen by the British ships from a distance. That first flag consisted of 15 white starts on a blue field, along with 8 red stripes and 7 white stripes.  It measured 30 feet high and 42 feet long. That’s just about half the size of a standard movie screen.  The only place large enough to lay it out and sew it was in the warehouse of the local brewery where Mary worked every night for a week. It was finished on September 12, 1814.  On the night of September 13th, the battle began.  Major Armistead refused to surrender and ordered men to do whatever it took to guarantee the flag never touched the ground.  It was to remain constantly visible to the British out at sea.

Frances Scott Key had a grandstand seat out on the Bay from the safety of that British ship, but all he could do was watch.  It was a sight to behold; the British had a new type of rocket that once launched streaked red through the sky and exploded into tiny fragments upon impact. All night long these bombs lit up the sky.  One shell made a direct hit on the flag and tore out a few of the stars—a British gunner leaned over and told Key to watch and see—they’d all be gone by morning.   As the night wore on fog rolled in, but even when visibility was poor, the flag could be seen standing tall illuminated by those bursting bombs. At some point in the predawn, the shelling stopped, the air was still, and the fog was thick.  But then, at the first light of dawn, there she was!  The flag was battered and it was torn but it stood tall flying proudly in the sky supported by the bodies of the soldiers who had given their lives to ensure it remained upright.  The experience moved Key so deeply that he wrote a poem he entitled the Defense of Fort McHenry:

O! say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there --
O! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream --
'Tis the star-spangled banner, O! long may it wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havock of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash'd out their foul foot-steps' pollution,
No refuge could save the hireling and slave,
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave;
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

O! thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their lov'd home, and the war's desolation,
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto -- "In God is our trust!"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

Our country is once again at war.  We don’t read about it in the history books; we live it.  Today, our flag has 50 stars, along with 7 red stripes and 6 white stripes and it’s the men and women we love who ensure it never touches the ground.  Surrender isn’t an option today any more than it was for Major Armistead and the soldiers of Fort McHenry.  But our husbands and wives don’t bear the weight of the flag alone.  We are right there next to them making sure that our flag, no matter how battered and torn, waves proudly in the sky.  Every missed dinner and family plan ruined by weekend duty or that TDY that suddenly appeared lay at the base of the flag.  Every PCS when we leave friends behind and our favorite piece of furniture arrives broken lay at the base of the flag. Every home repair we make on our own, because we all know nothing breaks ‘till their gone, lay at the base of the flag. Every second spent separated by yet another deployment lay at the base of the flag.  We sacrifice a piece of ourselves each and every day to ensure that our flag never touches the ground.  Our national anthem isn’t an annoying interruption to our evenings, nor is it a formality to endure before the “real fun” begins.  It is a reminder that everything we face as military spouses matters.  What we do, day in and day out, often without conscious thought, is noticed and it is appreciated.  When we hear our national anthem we should all stand a little taller and take pride in the knowledge that we play a vital role in ensuring that our star spangled banner continues to wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 


 "Old Glory"

Displayed at Hickam AFB.  This is the flag that was flying on Dec. 7, 1941--you can see where it's been sewn back together between the stars.  Another round of bombs on another day filled with smoke couldn't knock Old Glory down!

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Childhood Friends


I’ve been thinking about childhood friends lately and how I wanted to incorporate my thoughts into a blog post (because I’m still figuring all this out!).  I had a few ideas but nothing concrete until I read a Facebook post from my oldest daughter.  We are getting ready to PCS to Japan in less than a week and I think it’s starting to hit home with all three of my kids.  She wrote a tribute to her best friends here in South Dakota.  It was very well written and had me tearing up by the end.  After all, I know a couple of these girls quite well.  Her two best friends simply walk right in, day or night, even if Kaleigh isn’t here.  They are good girls and I will miss them as well!

I was gone over Valentine’s Day this year to hang out with my daddy while my mom went back to work.  I wanted to surprise Nick and the kids with a little something so I elicited the help of my neighbor to set it up.  I had gifts for each of them hidden across the street at Marlene’s house and the morning of, called her with the “All clear!  Go, Go, Go!” signal.  I totally forgot to warn my friend that sometimes Kaleigh’s friend hangs out at our house before she goes to work in the mornings.

Apparently, Emaleigh came over that day and they mutually scared the living daylights out of each other!  I felt bad for laughing but couldn’t seem to stop as Marlene relayed the encounter and then again after I came home when Emaleigh told me what happened.

I remember simply walking into a friend’s house without needing to knock.  My parents were not in the military but we moved around a lot when I was really young.  In fact it wasn’t until I was a teenager that we stayed put for any length of time.  Being good enough friends with someone AND knowing the family well enough to make myself right at home was a rare gift.  I can empathize with my kids because I know what it is like to be the “new kid” time and time again.  No complaints though!  I believe that impacted who I am today!

One of my best friends from high school came to South Dakota for a family vacation this past week.  Tassjie and I got to go hang out with Everlean and her family for an afternoon.  It was so(!!) much fun!  After a couple of hours, her fiancĂ© looked at me and said, “Okay, so I have to ask.  You were in high school together, right?  What’s the dirt on Everlean?  Tell me all her embarrassing moments.”  I quickly informed him that we didn’t do anything embarrassing!  Ever jumped on this one “SEE!!  I TOLD you there’s nothing embarrassing from high school!” 
Only one I could find online so it'll have to do! (rest of my pictures are packed!)  Kenya, Jenn, Anna, Estelle and Everlean in the front (right)  I'm sure we were doing something crazy!  Had to be a game day in the winter since we were all in uniform!

We sat there and laughed about some of the crazy things we did, but in looking back, I don’t find myself feeling self-conscious or uncomfortable.  Perhaps there might be a little shame here and there, but nothing embarrassing.  As we sat there talking we couldn’t help but decide that all in all, we were good kids!  We hung out with a great group of friends and we did just about everything together as a group!

At Mt. Rushmore--113 degrees in the shade, man it was HOT!
Our 20 year reunion is coming up here in a couple short years—YIKES!  It’s hard to believe that it’s almost been two decades since we all hung out and did just about everything together!  When we graduated and went our separate ways, to college or straight on into life as an adult, we didn’t have all the options for communication that my kids have today.  I still have a few letters (yes, handwritten letters that came in an envelope with a postage stamp) from those early days after graduation.  Phone calls were made from land lines and had to be kept short and sweet because we paid for long-distance!  Gradually we all grew apart as we grew up but I’m happy to say the friendships didn’t die! We’ve been able to reconnect through Facebook and it’s like the years between melted away!  I definitely think that the friends one has in childhood shape a person into the adult he or she becomes!

It’s much easier to stay in contact today!  The actual distance between friends is only limited by one’s Internet connection!  We have cell phones with unlimited plans, Skype (for free—how cool is that?!), Facebook; the list could go on and on!  I am excited about our upcoming move to Japan and happy that the distance between Rapid City and Tokyo need not be measured in miles and time zones. My kids don’t need to lose contact with the friends they’ve made here and I can’t wait to meet the new friends who’ll simply open the door and walk right in!
Can't resist posting a picture of my girls!  Emaleigh, Kaleigh, and Devann.  Homecoming Sophomore year. If my pictures weren't already packed I'd put one of me and Everlean (and Anna, Estelle, and Pattie!!) from one of our high school dances!  I look forward to seeing a picture from these three in 20 years!!

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Just. One. More


Just. One. More.

One more what?

Does it really matter?

Just.  One.  More.

Those three little words can be applied to nearly anything and most often result in a whole lot of happy!

Some of my earliest memories involve one of my favorite things in life: books!  “Just one more book, mommy, please???”  I’d beg every night before bed.  I quickly moved into chapter books and the plea became, “Just one more chapter, mommy, please???”  I no longer have to ask permission but I still find myself thinking, “Just one more chapter, THEN I’ll turn out the light.”   So thanks, mama, for teaching me that books are our friends!

I can say with some measure of authority that what we learn by example has a tendency to stick with us! I learned early on that just one more meant a whole lot of happy!  My love of just one more book has been passed down to the next generation!  As soon as my three babies could talk it was my turn to either give in or ignore the cries of “Just one more, mommy!”  Any guesses what I chose?  Yep, there's always time for just one more!  In fact, my little ones learned very early that they could have my complete and undivided attention if they showed up with a book in hand!  The house might’ve stayed a tad messy or the pasta cooked a smidge beyond the desired ‘al dente’ but the result was a whole lot of happy all the way around!

Perhaps it’s my love of squeezing in just one more minute to read that is the motivation behind the creation of this blog.  I like to tell a story every bit as much as I like to read one!  Just one more seems to be the (ha) story of my life—for good and for ill!  You’ve heard the saying: truth is stranger than fiction?  I think Murphy had me in mind when he sat down to write his infamous law because no one could make up some of the situations I find myself in.  No matter where I go, no matter what I do, I seem to be a magnet for the idiotic!  My truth is routinely stranger than fiction! Sometimes it’s absurd, sometimes it’s aggravating, occasionally it’s repulsive, but it always ends up making me laugh sooner or later.  I started sharing a few of these stories on Facebook and now, instead of my kids begging for just one more book, my friends are begging me for just one more story!

So, here you go—it is with you in mind that I will share just one more.  The beauty of the concept is, there’s  a l w a y s  time for just one more!

May the ridiculous situations I find myself in bring you your own little bit of happy!